I’d known my girl was special, always had. But to unclench the tight fist of my mother? Not even Cal had ever done that. Special didn’t even cover it. My God, I’d had no idea. I shifted in my chair, wanting to be gone, but wanting the whole story, too. This was probably my only chance. My mama wasn’t one for dragging things out, peeling back the layers. Once she shut the door on this subject, it would be shut for good. “You what? Walked up to her on the street and introduced yourself? ‘Hey, Junie, I’m the grandma your mom warned you about. Let’s be friends’?”

“You know, I used to think I missed your real personality. The one you put on ice when Junie was born. At least that Evie had some spunk.” My mama shook her head. “But it turns out I don’t. Your smart-ass routine gets old quick.”

I laughed, a hoarse bark. “I learned from the best. Now stop avoiding the question.”

My mama leaned back against the counter, crossed her arms. “How do you think I met her? Use your brain. It ain’t hard to figure out.”

It took me longer than it should have, cycling through the possibilities and skipping over the most obvious one because I didn’t want to believe it. “Cal?” I said finally. Voiced like a question but one I already knew the answer to. It was like taking a punch to the gut, the knowledge that Cal had violated the one trust I’d relied on him to always keep. He’d promised me. And promised Junie. Cradled her newborn body in his arms and vowed she’d always be safe, which meant keeping her far away from Mama. And he’d betrayed us both.

“Yep. I told him I deserved to meet her at least. My only grandchild.” She smirked at me. “And he agreed. Didn’t even put up an argument.”

Of course he didn’t. Because as much as Cal loved me, as much as he hated Mama, he was loyal to her, too. He still showed up at her trailer once a month with food or an envelope of cash. He visited her on Christmas Day and Mother’s Day and Easter. Not like me, who before Junie died hadn’t seen Mama, except from a distance, in more than five years. She had some sick hold over Cal, even now. The ability to bend him to her will when he ought to have known better. Part of me could hardly blame him for it. For all my big talk, I hadn’t managed to sever that final connection, either. “If you had anything to do with what happened to Junie, if it comes back to you in even the tiniest way, Mama . . .” I let my words trail off.

“You think if I knew anything about what happened I’d be sitting here drinking beer and shooting the shit with you?” She lit up a new cigarette with a neon-pink lighter. “I don’t waste time making threats, Eve.” Accusatory squint through a scrim of smoke. “I don’t talk. I act. Whoever hurt her would already be dead in a ditch.”